Chapter 1

Cecil Farner had never wanted to take up the faith, but his austere parents had decided the way of the cloth would be best for him, due to what they perceived as his having a somewhat delicate nature. Bullied by both boys and girls during his schooldays, left him meeker than most, though the bullying by the latter sex had given him a perverse excitement which haunted him forever, and along with the actions of his stern governess, that excitement re stronger women grew all the more - something which would have appalled his parents, but he found himself masturbating over, whenever rebuked or slighted by a woman in any way.

That governess, Martha Hilbrand, indignant at the masculine hierarchy which pressed its yoke upon Victorian womanhood, took great pleasure in caning her male charges at the slightest opportunity to have them recognise female authority, and Cecil had been no exception to that stern ruling. In fact, she had seen that curious desire within him from any early age, and soon had the expulsion of his tears replaced with an emission of that particularly masculine kind, whilst under the cane. Whilst soothing his striped backside as he lay across her ample thighs, the stern Martha had him believe that this was a weakness which she would keep from his parents, knowing in truth, it would lead to him to obedience to womanhood forever. It was a day of great sadness for both, when Martha’s tenure came to an end with the youth reaching perceived manhood, though the haughty and confident woman quelled his agonies on losing her, when exchanging gifts on the day she left. Her pert smile at him as she handed him a petit and neatly wrapped box, had him erect immediately.

“Some notes of guidance for you, to assist you in your life ahead, I hope.” And with this gesture, she departed after deftly curtseying to his parents, suggesting her service had been a mere formality. On opening her gift, Cecil found a small bureaux of notes on wisdom and courteousness ... and a small envelope within, marked: ‘Cecil, for your eyes only.” On exchanging gratitudes with his parents, he returned to his room, the room where he’d been no stranger to the cane, his sense of emptiness growing as he sniffed for the last remnants of her scent whilst opening the envelope...

‘You require further guidance by my hand. You will visit me at the address below, at your earliest convenience.’ Cecil made sure his door was locked, discarded his attire, and masturbated vigorously as he read that line and took in the address over and over till he spent his seed in a blissful ecstasy.

The address at which he’d been ordered to attend, was not too far from his own residence, and having satisfied his pathetic urges immediately, he decided to venture out on that very day, just to view where his enforced education would continue, from an external point of view. His enthusiasm was halted momentarily by his parents, their demure countenances bringing him back to a more sobering world for a short while.

“Remember you’re to attend St Cuthbert’s from Wednesday my boy. The route to an ecclesiastical world awaits you.” This wasn’t really the life he’d wanted, but this way had been chosen for him by his parents, and he had nothing else so felt he must oblige. He made his acknowledgments, then headed out into the cool daylight of freedom ... though capture is what his already re-erecting cock sought.

Cecil strutted through the streets, unable to disguise a certain furtiveness in his progress, his stuff erection not aiding his stride as he passed many pompous looking women, rarely alone and usually in pairs as was seen as befitting and proper in that world. Many detected his intense demeanor, guessing he was up to something improper, and giving him scornful looks as they bustled by in their tightly corseted outfits, Cecil imagining their ample thighs and buttocks across which he’d have loved to have lain for a spanking, concealed below flowing skirts. Those thoughts not helping his erection.

On finding the address Cecil was relieved to see that the entrance to which he’d need traverse was for very many residences; ‘Stirling Mansions’ being a residential building occupied by many dwellings with the bonus that, on looking through the front entrance he could see entry could be made from the street to it’s rear too. He hurried home and masturbated a second time, thoughts of both Martha and those pompous women in the street, having him bring forth a second turgid and most exquisite spurt of cream as he grit his teeth in ecstasy, his mind at the feet of confident womanhood.

He could wait no longer than the following evening, and ventured out once, mindful of the fact that he was due at St Cuthbert’s the following day, which gave him further impetus to know service to the deity he truly worshipped, before that drudgery. He came to the residence, and taking a deep breath, pushed the glass pained and polished entrance door open, and seeing directions, ascended marbled stairs, seeking no. 22. He gasped upon finding it, two floors up, and knocked at the polished front door, the brass knocker gleaming as though attended to daily. He felt himself break into a cold sweat as he heard footsteps approach, the door swung open, and there was Martha, dressed in a tight black satin dress, a curt smile on recognising a male who would know obedience, welcoming him as much as the warming scent of her perfume. The smile turned into a near scowl of contempt.

“In you come! ... I was expecting you yesterday, I hope you have a good excuse for not attending then?” Cecil gasped as he moved past her whilst she shut the door, noting her nipples poking hard through the satin, a tight bodice below the satin, having her breasts jut out, imposing her feminine authority. Cecil squeaked out his response to her question, as she stood tall on heels hidden by the black material, her face demanding an answer.

“No ... I mean ... I didn’t want to appear ... to appear over zealous.” She sneered at him and pointed a manicured finger to the floor.

“On your knees before me! ... you’ll know stricter rules for this part of your education!” She grinned with spiteful delight as he sank to his knees immediately, she longing to see him naked and leashed, her cunt hot with arousal already as he cowered on his knees, studying the magnificence of her waist and hips in the black satin, sniffing the air for her scent as his cock boned rigid at her stern tones, longing for the cane.

“Kiss my feet!” He heard her take a sharp intake of breath, then sigh, as she lifted her black skirts and showed him a fine pair of heeled boots which he went down to immediately, without the least hesitation, he, plying his lips to the toes as his eyes adored the elegant black leather footwear.

“You’ll do this whenever you greet my presence ... or that of any other woman I have as a guest ... from now on.” Cecil could feel the pre-cum oozing in his underwear, as he performed this new duty in willing near-ecstasy, the thought of being made to oblige anonymous women in a likewise manner, thrilling him as Martha continued with a sneering tone.

“If you thought you knew discipline at your residence, you’ve another thing coming ... believe me, you’ll know the strictest obedience when here, and you’ll be put to very good use in a little tutorial scheme I conduct ... now crawl to my parlour on all fours!...” He looked up at her as she pointed the way down the neatly appointed hall, magnificent in her dominance, his cock perking all the more on noting a cylindrical umbrella stand ... full of an array of spiteful looking canes of varying lengths and girths - the necessary tools of a dominant and sadistic governess, his erotic excitement building as she strutted imperiously beside him, her cunt hot and wet with an excitement of her own, delighted with the absolute obedience of her capture; she’d thoroughly enjoy him sexually now she had him under her complete command.

“I think the cane is in order for your lateness in attendance ... what do you think?” Cecil could think of little else, his mind jumbled with erotic anticipation as he thought of being ‘put to good use’, ‘other women’ ... and that stand with its abundance of rattans and bamboos. As thought that were not thrilling enough, he gasped as a smiling Martha pushed the door open to a room with leather clad furniture ... a broadly humped and padded bench with leather cuffs at the feet of its legs, adorning the centre of the room. He squeaked out his response, its submissive tone more than evident.

“Oh yes ... yes Madam Martha ... the cane ... I deserve the cane!” Martha’s cunt oozed at his cur like response, her contempt for him rising, along with her appetite for giving him a thorough caning.

“Strip! ... let me see the flesh so deserving of being striped by the rod!” He struggled with some of the buttons in his haste to undress, giving his eyes time to take in some of the artefacts adorning this large parlour; scripts in languages he didn’t recognise, bladed instruments of execution, so obviously from foreign lands. He recalled how he’d pined for her in those months when she took her leave, and he, left to his own devices. He remembered how vigorous her discipline was when she returned ... some of those items he now saw, gave clues to just why. Now naked, he gasped as he felt the satin dress drop to the floor, and turned to see her standing in no more than corset, stockings ... and tight fitting panties which silhouetted her ripely aroused cunt, her hand flicking a cane, his cock standing high in submissive attention as she wagged a finger at him, demanding his closer attention. She then pointed to her cunt with the cane.

“Come sniff at what many a male has begged to lick, following defeat under the cane by my hand!” Cecil’s cock pulsed rigid at this new intimacy, he knew he’d be caned, but the nearest he’d come to her womanhood when she’d governed him at home, was on those rare occasions he’d intercepted her laundry prior to washday, and had masturbated vigorously whilst sniffing the gusset of her bloomers. He had never seen the panties she now wore ... and now he could see her prominent labia too. She grinned with triumph as he waddled toward her on his knees, his erect cock wagging, his eyes fixed on that slot, and hesitated in disbelief as he faced the moist material shrouding her aroused cunt.

“Sniff! ... get to it! ... I want you to know my scent before being thrashed!” She flexed her thighs and sneered with contempt as he eased his nose toward the lush crevice, and inhaled the heavenly scent of her arousal, his cock twitching at the delectable and intoxicating perfumes of her ripe cunt.

“There! that’s better than sniffing my used underwear, isn’t it?” He snorted at her cunt in alarm, at the fact that she’d known what he’d done, his bell now dribbling pre-cum at the rich spice of her cunt, his balls tingling and aching to come as she continued to taunt him ... deservedly.

“ ... I’d place items at the top of the laundry basket, noting their position, knowing either you, or your father, would sniff and masturbate over them ... and I know it wasn’t just my cunt you sniffed for...” She grinned in triumph and let out a cynical laugh, having him thrust his erect cock at the air, having guessed correctly that he’d sniffed for the spice of her anus too, her ample backside on his mind as he’d spurted his load in utter worship of her scent.

“ ... something else I’ve been waiting to cane you for ... and you shall know the cane in earnest today!” She edged her cunt away from him, leaving him red-faced with humiliated pleasure and gasping, as she pointed her cane to the padded bench.

“Over you go! ... arms and feet down by the legs! ... time to introduce you to a convenience you’ll become very familiar with...” He did not hesitate, the leather padding feeling ominously comfortable as he lay his body over it, arching his torso and leaving his buttocks high and exposed for the cane. He felt the lush stimulation of his cock slipping against the leather as she knelt with a curt smile and fastened his wrists and ankles, sighing with pleasure as she made them tightly secure ... rendering him absolutely helpless.

“There, now you’re almost ready for a thrashing like you’ve never had before ... a thrashing you’ve so thoroughly deserved...” She cut the air with her cane, the delicious sound having him hump at the bench, longing to feel its sting, but she beckoned his attention with a contemptuous smile.

“Look at me Cecil ... I’ve a real treat for your initiation to your new life under my control...” She flexed the simple cane in her feminine hands, having him close to jetting his seed to the leather, then slipped it onto a shelf ... picking up a wickedly braided instrument which looked more like a stiff whip than a cane, her nipples poking hard as she flexed it, then cut the air with it, having it almost crack like a whip, he sound delectable, the sight of her wielding the shiny demon having his anus tingle with both fear and desire. He longed to be allowed to sniff at her cunt again as she grinned wickedly.

“ ... this is a called a sjambok Cecil ... we can’t be doing with nursery canes, now that you are my slave, though this in itself is a nursery version...” She licked her lips as she flexed its shiny length in her hands, whilst extolling its dark virtues.

“This is a rubber version which I picked up on my Asian travels, this very instrument was used by a woman in another male dominated country down there, in successfully bringing her husband to tears before an audience of women, myself included ... noting her husband’s predilection for dominant women elsewhere. Having been outed by me in front of his wife, the rearrangement of their marriage was conducted, the applause given out by femininity when his tears were accompanied by the surrender of his seed in utter humiliation, a tonic to all there. So delighted was she with the sexual spice her new life now offered, she made it quite plain to her husband as to how this had come about as he kissed her feet, she presented me with the whip that had been blessed by his tears.” Cecil thrust his cock at the leather, longing to shoot in surrender himself as he studied the implement which had seen to the defeat of a male in earnest ... she picking something else from the shelf.

“ ... as I say, this is a mere nursery version in rubber, so abundant in Asia. In Africa, there are those more stringent articles, made from rhino skin...” She grinned contentedly, closing her eyes in thought as she recalled a memory from her travels there.

“I seen slaves thrashed with the real thing there ... their flesh torn to shreds...” She opened her eyes and sneered at him, her cunt now posing with the sadistic need to use the whip on him.

“ ... you’ll find this version more than adequate with the pain it delivers ... it’s a keen favourite with ladies at tutorials here, they knowing its history, many a husband or pet brought to book under its ample lash ... and you shall know the same!” She sighed again as she knelt and stroked his hair, showing him what she held in her free hand, having his cock pulse at the leather all the more ... a leather strap with a polished wooden ball at its centre, bearing indents of many teeth which had bitten on it in anguish. She slipped the ball into the gape of his mouth, and took particular care in tightening the strap being his head, finding exquisite sexual pleasure in silencing him.

“ ... this is another artefact from travels, this from the Middle East, a type of gag favoured by slave smugglers, necessary in keeping their illicit cargo quiet ... normally white males from Europe, disposed of by wives and mistresses, on their way to being the pets of exotic sultanas and dowagers, their old lives over forever...” She lifted his chin and sneered at him, enjoying seeing him quieted by it, sucking on the ball.

“ ... of course, you’ll wear it simply because you’ll want to beg for mercy through your tears ... but it’ll not be allowed, you’ve earned thorough punishment for your misdemeanours ... and I’m going to enjoy it to the full!” Cecil grunted through the gag as she flicked the stiff whip back with a sneering smile, the feeling of utter helplessness and her pose with the sjambok having him test the cuffs and slide his cock against the leather in submissive wonderment at her dominance. She lifted the whip high, as she sneered at him.

“I know all about the profession that’s been chosen for you, and how you’re not really enthralled by it...” She cracked the air with the rubber demon, having him quiver in masochistic expectancy, she, thoroughly enjoying the teasing aperitif before having him sample the main course.

“ ... believe me, your taking the cloth is going to be a little more exciting than you can know at St. Cuthbert’s ... so just think of this as an enforcement of self flagellation!” He had no time to ponder her curious indication of knowledge of his path, her cynical laughter interspersed with the song of the descending whip, it’s promise of pain sincere. He cried out in muffled fashion through the gag, stiffening his entire body and testing the cuffs in earnest as the rubber whip curled about his flesh, biting deep into the softness of his buttocks and leaving a red wheal instantly as the stinging pain coursed through him, having him whimper in pain but thrust his bell at the leather in a longing to come ... and Martha, now his Owner and Mistress, sighing with sexual exhilaration, her cunt hot and tingling with a deep and erotically sadistic pleasure as he added his teeth marks to the ball of the gag in blissful misery.

“Ohhh, yes, yes yes! ... we’ll soon have you ready to face your betters tomorrow!” Without further ado, she lifted the whip and had Cecil enjoy its repeated song as he was duly punished for his weakness, and as the wheals multiplied, he was duly taken down to that masochistic low she’d promised, having him grunt and whine through the gag in an effort to have her show him mercy, but none was shown as she revelled in her sadism ... and Cecil’s pain turned to an ecstasy in defeat as he thrust his cock rhythmically at the leather padding ... and wax consumed in masochistic lust as that whip which has broken so many men, saw to it that he shot his seed in the abundance of an absolute surrender to Martha’s dominance.